


How to Kill a Two-Headed Turkey

by vmreed



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Bellamy Blake-centric, Canon Compliant, Chopped Madness, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Hero is a villain, Implied/Referenced Torture, POV Bellamy Blake, Qualifying Round, it gets weird fast, sorta - Freeform, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23165830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vmreed/pseuds/vmreed
Summary: After everyone at camp collapses from a mysterious illness (thanks Murphy), Bellamy and Octavia are sent to hunt enough food for 100 sick teenagers. When they find themselves lost, far from camp, what else can they do but move forward? Thankfully, a kind woman took them in, but all is not as it seems. Anya's been waiting to meet these Skaikru...(Submitted for Chopped Madness 2020 Qualifying Round)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Octavia Blake
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9
Collections: Chopped Madness





	How to Kill a Two-Headed Turkey

“Kill it, Bell, get it!” 

Bellamy smirked at his sister’s sadistic glee as he crouched in the underbrush. Clarke had sent them to go hunting, (which was a horrible idea), but all the competent hunters like Miller or Murphy were coughing up their lungs. 

It had been an hour of stomping around and watching food run away from them when they finally saw dinner: a two-headed turkey fat enough for the whole camp. 

Behind him, Octavia bunched her legs from a low-hanging branch, ready to spring on his signal. They had chased the damned thing for what felt like miles, only now able to corner it.

A low, lilting whistle broke the quiet of the clearing, and out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy saw his sister fly from her hiding space only to land harshly on the unsuspecting bird.

A crack echoed through the dell, and his eyes flew to Octavia, panicked, as he felt his fists clench and muscles prime for a race. His shoulders dropped and his breathing evened when he saw her holding a dead turkey, instead of the other way around.

“Great Traveler, O! You scared the shit out of me! Warn a guy next time!” he said as he moved to take the creature from her, feeling the odd roughness of its feathers.

“Calm down Bell, I’m fine, let’s just head back to camp so we can finally eat this thing,” she said, taking a good look at their surroundings, fear creeping its way along her face, “Which way _is_ camp?”

He finally managed to tear his eyes away from the dead, floppy corpse in her hands, awareness in his eyes as he realized they had no idea where they were.

————

By the time night had fallen, the fat bird was no more than a sack of bones and the trees surrounding the clearing each had a distinct slash mark as Bellamy returned from yet another unsuccessful attempt at finding a dropship filled with one hundred teenagers.

As he sat down next to his sister who was crouched in front of the fire, he added some brush, “Nothing again, O. In the morning I say we pick a direction and walk until we find something.”

“Something like what?” She asked, warily.

“Food, running water, an old shelter, anything,” he said, “We’re bound to find _something_.” he told her as the fire made quick work of the dried leaves.

When the roar of the had fire died down, Octavia leaned against him and he could feel her hair tickle his arm and her cheek warm his shoulder. “Whatever you say, Bell,” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, “We’ll find a way back.”

————

“We’ll _never_ find a way back!” Octavia groaned behind him.

Sighing, he ignored her, continuing to slash the trunk of the large pine he stood in front of. “Yes we will O, this forest can’t go on forever.”

“But what if we’re just walking in circles?” She asked.

He finally turned to face her, satisfied that the slash was clear enough to see in the dark. “That’s why I’ve been marking a tree every fifty meters,” he said, gesturing to his recent handiwork, “This way, we know for _sure_ we’re not going backwards.”

Octavia’s shoulders dropped at his answer, and it was only then that he noticed she had seemed on edge all day. He took a few cautious strides toward her, folding her head into his chest. 

She hastily returned the hug, crushing him against her with strength he didn’t know she possessed. “It’ll be ok O,” he promised.

————

After two restless nights, Bellamy could feel his feet slipping on the forest floor, his body aching to keel over. His brain was pounding into the walls of his skull, and he had forgotten to mark a tree for the first time since he had decided to do so.

“Bell,” Octavia started as she slid down to the ground, holding her stomach, “I’m so hungry.”

He sat down next to her, “I know O, me too. But we have to keep going or we’re never going to eat again.”

He was ready to fall asleep right there, but the thundering noise of what he could only assume were horses’ hooves had him whipping his head up.

Before his tired mind even had the energy to react, a woman with black paint stretched across her face and a ponytail covered in dirt stood before them. He vaguely noted that a spotted horse stood a meter or two behind her.

He would’ve thought she cut an imposing figure, but she squatted low enough where she was eye level with them, saying something kindly in that Grounder language.

Her brows furrowed when they showed no signs of recognition, her eyes lighting up and a smile breaking its way onto her face. “You are Skaikru, yes?” She asked.

“Yes,” Bellamy answered, too tired to lie.

She hummed, “I am Anya kom Trikru, and my village is not far. It would be an honor to break bread with those who have fallen from the stars.”

After she mentioned bread, he knew it was all over for Octavia. The weight of her head left his shoulders quickly, “Mochof, Anya kom Trikru, Ai laik Okteiva kom Skaikru, en em laik Belomi kom Skaikru.” She said formally. He figured it was something Lincoln taught her.

Anya stood, yelling something in her language, and soon a large bearded man who introduced himself as Nyko had passed him the reins to a black horse.

Bellamy helped Octavia up, only climbing on when he saw that she was settled. It seemed Nyko assumed he wouldn’t know how to ride, and he led the horse instead of letting Bellamy steer.

After what felt like hours, they finally caught sight of a simple village, smoke filling the sky from multiple fires, people in animal furs surrounding them.

Bellamy could barely concentrate enough to nod mutely along to whatever instructions Anya was giving, following her as she led them to a large tent with a table set for three in the center.

He had the distinct urge to drool at the sight of the literal feast that was in front of him. At each chair was a large plate already filled with roasted duck and some sort of meat pie, and two bowls of fruit were placed symmetrically on either side of the centerpiece which was, surprisingly, a simple roll of bread.

“Please, sit.” Anya said, taking the lone seat on the left side. Octavia was quick to take the seat to his right, and he soon followed. He picked up the fork placed next to his food, his stomach aching, but Octavia slapped his hand down. Looking up, he realized that Anya was smiling fondly at him as she cut the bread into three large chunks.

“Skaikru and Trikru,” she began, “Breaking bread and joining together peacefully.” She said as she bit off a piece of bread. Octavia was quick to copy, and it was only a swift kick from her that made him do the same.

Bellamy was content to keep the meal silent, the bliss of food filling him after days of nothing holding most of his attention, but it seemed Anya wasn’t. 

“So,” she said as she cut into her duck, “How did two children come to be by themselves, separated from their clan?” 

Octavia answered as she picked up a shiny green apple, “All of us are kids. We were sent down to see if Earth was survivable.”

Anya quirked a brow at that, “So there are more of you in the sky?”

Bellamy answered that one, seeing no reason to lie to the kind woman giving them food and shelter. His nose twitched as he told her everything, starting from when Octavia was taken away, and ending when she found them, hungry and tired.

“That sounds like quite the ordeal,” Anya said sympathetically, “And your leader told you to find Mount Weather?” She asked.

Bellamy was slightly put off by the change in topic, but he answered anyway, getting more and more nervous as he realized that this was not a kindly old woman, but a leader of a foreign nation interrogating invaders.

After the latest question about any contact with a man named Cage Wallace, he finally had enough. “We don’t know anything, okay?” He yelled, “And we’re not going to fight your stupid war!”

Anya set down her fork, looking grim as she stood up to tower over them, barking orders at guards posted outside.

“Fine,” she said as a bulky woman dragged them away, “I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

————

“There! I see smoke!” Clarke yelled behind her, not waiting for Miller to catch up.

After three days with no sign of Bellamy and Octavia, Clarke had taken the only other healthy person (who also happened to be their best tracker, thankfully) and set out to find them.

Miller had been helpful in following their footprints, but when they started seeing Xs carved into the trees, it didn’t take a tracker to follow them.

Clarke ran straight through a copse of pines, only to enter a Grounder village. It seemed they came just in time, because she spotted Bellamy being led by a rope around his wrists to a nearby tent.

She was nothing if not logical, so she led Miller back, finding a well hidden tree branch to crouch down on until nightfall. Her heart thumped so loudly in her chest that she was sure it would give them away.

————

Bellamy felt the ground bite his most recent wound (a slash on his back from the whip) as he was thrown back into the makeshift cell. Anya was leaving, a new, crueler smile marring her face.

“In the morning we will try again.” She growled at them before muttering something to the man guarding them. 

After a few hours, Octavia was asleep and their guard had relaxed slightly. Both jolted to attention, though, when footfalls were heard echoing outside, and two dark figures quickly jumped the guard, dispatching the nameless man.

His bound hands clenched into fists and he stepped in front of Octavia as one figure moved into the torchlight.

He’d never been so happy to see that arrogant Alpha Station princess.

————

Miller made quick work of any other guards posted as Clarke passed Bellamy a roll of gauze. Octavia filled them in while he wrapped it around his torso. It was only when they were at the edge of the village that the shadow of Anya appeared before them.

Bellamy had just enough breath to warn Miller, and it was easy to subdue her with all four of them working together. In the end, Miller put a knife to her throat and looked to him for instruction. 

Bellamy pulled out the roll of gauze he had tucked away, binding her hands and feet and gagging her. Finally, he secured her hands to a tree, leaving her there for someone to find in the morning.

“You were following us.” He said, “You watched us as we were starving and you saw an opportunity. You planned _all of this_.”

Her only response was a gleeful look in her eye.

They left after that, hiking back to camp as Clarke took more care and time to tend to their wounds. Miller suggested stopping to sleep but Bellamy insisted they keep moving. He wouldn’t feel safe until they were inside the walls of the dropship.

With that persistent attitude and the energy gained from Clarke’s crushed nuts, the walls were within sight soon enough.

It was good to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> The tropes for this round were “canonverse”, “fairy tale”, and “Villain becomes a good guy/vice versa” with Bellamy being the focal character. I chose Hansel and Gretel as my fairytale, and Anya as my hero-turned-villain. I hope you enjoyed, and have a lovely day!


End file.
